


In Offering

by Yashitsu



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Jon's idea of a ritual is pretty informal, M/M, Religion Kink, Ritual Sex, beholding kink, sorta - Freeform, they don't even touch elias literally just gets off on being beheld, vague mention of rape fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23256595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yashitsu/pseuds/Yashitsu
Summary: It's surprisingly enjoyable for Elias to be the one being looked at.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 8
Kudos: 87





	In Offering

**Author's Note:**

> Please respect my boundaries by not reading this fic if you are under 18.

“Jon, what are you—“

“Consider it a sacrifice.”

Elias’ voice is cut off by the sheer weight of the Archivist’s gaze on him. It’s as if he’s pinned to his chair, even with nothing physical restraining him. Even for as long as he’s worked and prayed and longed for this, for his Archivist to fully awaken, he’s come to realize that he was in no way prepared for the reality of it. Jon isn’t even all the way there yet, still clinging to so many tattered scraps of humanity, but even the glimpses of potential Elias can sometimes see through that clouding pretense are almost too much for him. Elias shivers with a wave of emotion indistinguishable between fear and arousal, and he knows the Archivist Sees it. God, he’s looking right _at_ him. Elias hasn’t felt so exposed in ages, and he’s still fully clothed.

“You’ve done this sort of thing in the past,” Jon says, and it’s not even a proper question and Elias still answers without even thinking about it.

“Yes,” he says, taken aback by the ease at which the words spill from him as he continues, “the intimacy and vulnerability of sex makes it a suitable ritual medium for our master.” He hadn’t even realized they were talking about sex until he said it.

“Tell me about the first time you attempted to include sexual elements in a ritual.” Elias does. It’s a frankly embarrassing anecdote from his youth that he’d just as soon have everyone forget about, and describing his own clumsiness and inexperience makes the parts of him that are still capable of feeling shame burn with mortification, and yet having the story forced out of him makes an odd sort of ecstasy course through him. He’s fully hard by the time he finishes, but he still doesn’t feel capable of really moving. Jon just watches, impassive, the expression on his face not even changing. Elias could just as well be talking about the weather forecast and not his awkward attempt at offering an orgasm to the Beholding, for all Jon is reacting to it. Jon makes a sort of unimpressed humming noise before asking,

“And when was the first time you imagined me being involved in such rituals?” The question hits Elias low in his gut, and he feels as if he would moan if he were capable of doing anything but answering, which he isn’t. It was nearly the first time he saw Jon, saw that pretty scowl on his face as he looked over some report or another, that shrewd glare that assessed everything and found it all lacking.

“And how did you imagine my involvement?” He’d wanted to break that haughty glare at first, hold him down and fuck him into a puddle of tears and honesty. But as he got to know Jon, and especially as he watched him grow more and more into the Archivist Elias had always wanted, those fantasies had changed.

“How did they change?” Elias had seen Jon break and rebuild himself, and while watching him more closely, breaking him himself, that still appealed, the thought of his Archivist being able to overpower Elias also took root. Perhaps Elias would be the victim on the altar, and Jon would hold the knife, so to speak. Perhaps Jon would learn to Look at him, unravel him, flay open his very soul and take in how it bled for him.

“Hardly even sounds sexual at all, when you put it that way.” Oh, but it _is,_ Elias’ choked whimper is proof. He’s aching but he can’t find the words to beg Jon for what he needs, can’t figure out how to speak outside of the confessions so mercilessly, wonderfully ripped from him. Even pleading with his eyes seems useless. As wide as his vision ranges, it all feels like nothing when he meets the eyes of the Archivist.

“You’ve never come without any physical stimulation before. You’re wondering if it’s even possible.” Indeed, even for a creature such as Jon, Elias isn’t sure it’s possible to come from the mere act of being Seen.

“It is, And you _will_.” And oh, Jon is _right,_ of course he’s right, the feelings inside Elias crest and break and he comes in short, intense waves, eyes locked with the Archivist, undone purely by the sensation of being so thoroughly _Beheld._ He’s completely dazed in the aftermath, hardly cognizant of Jon carefully removing his trousers, and his underwear, and his shirt—goodness, he soiled all of that—and brushing his hair back from his forehead. He does feel the soft kiss Jon places there, and he allows himself to melt into the sensation. Jon had called this a sacrifice, and it feels like it; Elias is drained and exhausted from the process. But it’s a sacrifice he would make over and over, as often as his Archivist desires it. Elias is the supplicant, and he is, for once in his long, long life, satisfied.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what this is, I just started writing and it happened. Enjoy?


End file.
